


The Space Between

by PrinceWinter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Background Dimitri/Byleth, Childhood Friends, Confessions, Drinking, M/M, Non-Binary Byleth, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, POV Alternating, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor, Some angst, Sylvain Makes Heterosexual Mistakes, Temporary OC/Canon, There's like 1 scene don't worry, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 09:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceWinter/pseuds/PrinceWinter
Summary: “Well, sure, but…” Byleth searched for the right words again, this time with a bit more effort. “What about any new friends? There’s new faces arriving at the monastery every day. Haven’t you wanted to get to know them at all?”“No,” he replied simply. “I don’t need more than I have.”Byleth leaned over a bit, something a bit mischievous on their expression. “What about love?”





	The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THIS MONSTER! Sorry if some parts seem rushed, I just needed to slam this story down and some parts did not come to me as easily as others. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> NOTE: There are some Blue Lions route spoilers, as this fic takes place well into Part 2, but it's so focused on the character relationships that even those not spoiled should be fine. There ARE some serious backstory spoilers for Sylvain and Felix, but if you've gotten enough of their supports, none of this should be news to you.

Felix was never a fan of thinking about things. Figuring out his feelings was an inconvenient obstacle in his life, and working out where he stood in relationships was an unpleasant chore. He hated being left idle for this reason; if he stopped, he would think. 

That was part of why he buried himself in his training like he did. Whenever doubts crept up on him, it was just much easier to push them away. It was easier to occupy himself so that his mind had no chance to wander. It was a reliable method of avoidance, more often than not, and it’d served him well for much of his life.

Even before Glenn’s death, he’d turned to training as his main coping strategy. He hadn’t quite kept track of _when_ the habit started, but he knew it had to be when he was a young teenager. After all, he knew what started it.

He’d known Sylvain for nearly his entire life, meeting when they were too young to even remember it. He remembered running and playing with him, completely carefree, talking only about the bugs they had found or who was better at playing pretend knights. Those were simple days, far simpler than now.

Something started to change one day. Both of them knew that being a young teen came with awkward and uncomfortable changes, but Felix hadn’t expected it to change his friend’s personality at all. Though he was still the same Sylvain he had always known, the things he liked to talk about had changed completely. The young girls that the two would often play with were on his mind much more, and it seemed that the opposite sex was all he could think about.

Glenn had laughed when Felix asked why. He’d explained simply that boys like girls. Girls like boys. Soon enough, he’d like girls too. It’s just how growing up worked.

Felix waited to like girls, but he just had no interest. Ingrid, another dear childhood friend, was just another person to him. Sylvain would ramble on and on about everything appealing about them, but Felix just couldn’t see it. Girls were just other people to him. He could, perhaps, objectively say that one was good-looking, but it was the same as calling a sunset pretty. He didn’t feel the attraction that led his old friend to following behind them like a lost puppy. 

(A bit of space grew between them.)

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get why someone’s voice or their hair or their face could turn someone into such an _idiot._ He didn’t get it at _all._

Until he did.

It’d be easier to pull all of his teeth out than to ever get him to admit it today, but as a child, Felix had a crush. His very first crush, at about twelve years old… on the wild boar of a prince, Dimitri. He had a gentle voice and a soft smile, and Felix suddenly understood just a bit of why Sylvain was so obsessive. Dimitri was a timid and pathetic little kid, but Felix found him endearing, for a brief while.

The crush didn’t last long, but it left Felix with an uneasy feeling. Everyone had said that boys were supposed to like girls, so why did he only have interest in other boys? He knew that both he and Glenn were expected to have kids of their own when they were grown up, to carry on their Crests and their family names, but boys couldn’t have babies with other boys.

He was too scared to ask any questions, but the worries were eating at him. With no way to cope, he just started burying his anxieties. Glenn had helped teach him to hold a sword when they were both rather young (the former having only learned recently from their father) and so that was the outlet he’d chosen.

Whenever he started to think, he’d feel fear. Discomfort. Uncertainty. It made him feel weak. So, he would train—and become strong. As time went on, his fears didn’t go away; they simply matured. He knew that some men could love other men, and it wasn’t a _huge _deal, but he still feared judgement. After all, he quickly found himself the sole heir of House Fraldarius. Commoners could love whoever they want, but he was expected to marry a woman. He was expected to bear more heirs.

The thought twisted his stomach like a knife put through it. He didn’t _want _to—but since when did it matter what _he_ wanted?

Childhood fears followed him into adulthood, and in the tides of a continental war, there was no place for them. He couldn’t sit around worrying about _love _when the Empire was out for the heads of everyone in the monastery. There was no room for insecurities on the battlefield. There was only life and death, and the enemy facing down his blade.

He trained until he exhausted himself, until his arms ached, and only then would he allow himself to stop.

—

Sylvain spent more time with the Fraldarius House than he did with his own as a child.

Miklan wasn’t completely exiled at first, simply barred from any claim to inheritance. He was allowed to remain in the manor. However, he was treated with disdain and scorn by his family and the family’s servants alike. He was treated as lesser, like an inferior.

Meanwhile, Sylvain’s parents were always kind to him, but it was a shallow love. He wasn’t loved for _who _he was, but simply _what _he was. Miklan was denied even that. He must’ve been desperate for something, _anything, _even if it was a shallow facade. However, he wouldn’t get anything but disgust from his parents. Because Sylvain dared to simply exist, because his blood held the power of a Crest, he couldn’t have anything he felt he deserved.

His parents weren’t the hands-on type, which meant for plenty of opportunities for Miklan to take his bitterness out on his unfortunate brother. He did well in making Sylvain’s own home feel unwelcome and unsafe. Until his brother’s eventual exile, that didn’t change.

But there was one solace; his friend at the nearby Fraldarius territory. He spent much of his youth there, spending sunny days with his best friend, Felix. He felt safer. There was no one waiting around the corner to hurt him. 

A lot of things have changed since then. Miklan’s exile and death, coming to the monastery, fighting a war… but Felix was still his friend. He was bitter and didn’t like showing his feelings, but Sylvain knew that deep down, his old friend still cared about him. 

Although, Sylvain _also _knew that if Felix could see his current situation, he’d be tempted to disown him.

Sylvain’s tendency to hit on everything that moved was well-known around the monastery, but sometimes, if he was lucky, there were people in the surrounding towns that hadn’t heard of his awful reputation. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was always worth a shot. Usually all he got was a slap to the face at worst.

It was just his luck that the cute girl he’d met outside of the local tavern was also extremely strong. He’d barely gotten halfway through his opener when she’d reared back, swinging her leg in a wide arc. It was a miracle his ribs were in one piece after that hit, because it was like being kicked by an angry horse.

(Which had happened to him before, so he knew the pain was roughly the same.)

The sun was long below the horizon, and the streets of the nearby town were lit only by dim magic lanterns. He limped along, clutching his aching side as he figured out in his head how he’d tell this latest misadventure as the funniest story possible. Maybe his misfortune would finally get a laugh out of Felix? It was worth a shot.

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Um, hello? Are you hurt?”

Sylvain turned around, wincing as he moved too quickly for his injured side, to see who had spoken. A lady, around his age, stood in the doorway of one of the nearby houses. She was definitely cute, with long red hair pulled into a messy braid, and freckles dotting her face. It was absolutely stupid to try flirting again when he was still nursing an injury from his last failed attempt, but since when did Sylvain make good decisions?

“Ah, it’s nothing. After all, how could anything hurt when I’m looking at a pretty face like yours?” He shrugged, smirking casually.

She chuckled a little bit—a good sign—and stepped out onto her porch. “Oh dear, are you drunk? Come here, sit down. I know a little bit of healing magic.”

“Not drunk, just the neighborhood weirdo,” he joked back. _’Wow, is this actually working? How?’_ He did as he was told, heading up to her porch and sitting on the steps. She knelt beside him, teasing a bit of light into her fingers.

“Is the bruise on your side?” She asked. “Pull up your shirt a little. I don’t want the fabric to get in the way.”

He complied, grinning crookedly. “Oh? Asking me to strip already?”

She rolled her eyes, but had a good-humored look on her face. “Goodness, contain yourself, or maybe I’ll slip and accidentally use a fire spell instead.”

“You kid, but that’s happened to me before. It’s inevitable when you used to train with mages that don’t totally know what they’re doing yet.” He let out a relieved sigh when the light touched the bruise, sapping away the pain. “Oh, man, that feels way better already.”

She smiled sweetly. “Really? Good. I’ve been practicing.” She paused for a moment. “Are you from the monastery, then? When it was still a school, I mean.”

“I was, yeah. My name’s Sylvain. Now, may I have the pleasure of knowing _your _name, miss~?” He braced himself for her reaction. Surely if she lived here she knew about him, the flirtatious—and _single—_nobleman. Any ambitious young woman knew how to sniff out the nobles and pounce when they’re available.

However, if there was any flash of recognition on her face, he didn’t see it. “I haven’t heard your name before… but nice to meet you, Sylvain. My name is Bella. I just moved in to the town here.”

“Well, miss Bella,” Sylvain stood, offering her a hand to help her up as well, “I’ll just have to take you out for tea some time—you know, to thank you for your help.” She accepted the hand, and he winked.

Bella brushed off her dress, giggling a bit. “Well, I guess I’ll have to accept, then. I’ll see you around, Sylvain.” She returned the wink, before ducking back into her house.

He walked away, no longer burdened by the ache in his side, with a satisfied smirk on his face. Not only did a girl _accept_ his advances—which happened sometimes, but not often—she had a good sense of humor, and most of all…

She didn’t seem to know who he was. She didn’t know he was nobility. She didn’t know he had a Crest.

And yet, she was still interested. Maybe, just for once, he would try to keep this girl.

—

You could hardly say Felix was at all picky about who he sparred with, but it’d be a lie to claim he wasn’t at least a little biased towards dueling with Byleth. The professor moved with grace and skill he found difficult to match with any of his other peers. They offered a challenge that he couldn’t resist.

He disarmed them with satisfaction, sending their blade sailing to the ground, where it stuck into the dirt. Byleth let out an easy laugh, throwing up their hands in defeat.

“You got me, Felix.” They walked over to where their sword had buried itself into the ground. It was a dull training blade, but more than capable of leaving nasty bruises. Felix himself sported a fresh one growing on his shoulder to prove it. “I think it’s about time we took a break.”

He frowned. “What? We’ve barely gotten started.”

They waved his words off casually. “Maybe by your standards. Not all of us train for hours at a time with no breaks. Don’t you have any hobbies?”

Felix crossed his arms. “Training. Training is my hobby.” Byleth took a seat near the wall, and he sighed in defeat. “Fine. We’ll break for now. Don’t act like you’re not perfectly capable of keeping up with me, though.” He joined them, sitting nearby.

“Oh, I know.” They offered a casual smirk, before their tone sobered somewhat. “…although, since we’re here, can we talk about something.”

“Sure, since I’m assuming I don’t have a choice.”

They shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I’m forcing you to stay, but… eh, anyways.” They clasped their hands neatly on their lap. “Felix, you’re worrying me a bit.”

“Worrying you?” He scowled a bit. “I’m hardly falling behind—might I remind you who just won more than half of those duels?”

They shook their head. “You see, that’s the problem. Your strength isn’t what’s worrying me. In fact, it never really has. What’s bothering me is kind of the fact that you immediately assumed I was talking about your training.”

Ah. Felix looked away. “What? Are you going to call me an obsessive or something?”

“Well, um—kind of?” They shrugged. “I’m worried that you’re neglecting other important things in favor of your training.”

“Like what? My personal life isn’t really any of your business.” He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. He masks his unease under a firm layer of irritation.

“…student or not, I’m still your professor.” Byleth frowned disapprovingly. “I care about all of your well-being, even off of the battlefield. Which is why I’m worried that…” They trailed off, as if trying to find a good way to word things. Clearly, they gave up in the end. “I’m worried that you have no social life.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a social life. I already have my companions, and they know me well enough.”

“Well, sure, but…” Byleth searched for the right words again, this time with a bit more effort. “What about any new friends? There’s new faces arriving at the monastery every day. Haven’t you wanted to get to know them at all?”

“No,” he replied simply. “I don’t need more than I have.”

Byleth leaned over a bit, something a bit mischievous on their expression. “What about _love?_”

Of course. Of course they had to go there. Felix grit his teeth. “I don’t care about love. Not everyone’s as head over heels as you are for the wild boar.”

The former professor reeled back, opening and closing their mouth helplessly like a fish out of water. “You—Felix! You know it’s not like that!”

He felt a tiny glimmer of satisfaction. “You two aren’t subtle. Also, the fact you were still as affectionate with him even when he’d stopped bathing regularly says a lot. That’s dedication.”

Byleth stood, flustered. “_Break’s over._ Get your sword! I need to hit you!”

Having successfully dodged an uncomfortable topic, Felix stood as well, picking up his training sword. However, before he was able to turn off his mind and distract himself, a tiny voice whispered to him.

_‘But you do want to be loved, don’t you?’_

—

Victory was the sweetest taste of all, but Sylvain definitely didn’t mind topping off a victory with a drink and a good meal.

A fairly pathetic force of bandits had been harassing a nearby village, and as the Empire had been giving some unexpected breathing room lately, it was decided they could spare the forces to go help out. It was a battle even a child could’ve won, but why waste a perfectly good opportunity to celebrate?

Sylvain had dragged Felix out of the training grounds long enough to enjoy the celebration, sitting him down next to Ashe and Caspar. The former was enjoying some kind of bubbly juice drink, while the latter seemed to be trying to prove something with how much ale he was drinking. 

(Sylvain hadn’t been sure about Caspar at first, since he had been Edelgard’s ally throughout most of his time at the academy, but now that the years have passed he’s certainly found where his loyalties lie. Also, he was hilarious, so Sylvain liked him.)

Sylvain grabbed himself and Felix a pint before claiming their seats, giving the other pair his signature lopsided grin. “So, Ashe, as you’re the responsible one here, can you tell me how many drinks he’s gone through?”

“Hey! I can talk for myself!” Caspar protested. “I’m only a little buzzed, that’s all.” To his credit, he was holding his liquor decently.

“It’s only his third,” Ashe replied with a disapproving (yet good-humored) sigh. “But I’m sure he’ll be in the double digits before he inevitably passes out.”

Caspar grinned. “At least I have you to make sure I get back to my room, right Ashe?”

The archer fidgeted. “Well, it’s not like I’d leave you here…”

Felix sipped his drink, scoffing. “Ashe, you’re too good to him. If this idiot made me drag his drunk ass around, he’d wake up in a pile of manure.” He lightly elbowed Sylvain as he spoke.

“Felix!” Sylvain gasped, as if he were deeply offended. “You wound me! We’ve shared the battlefield for so long, and you’d leave me with the horses?”

“I was going to leave you with the pigs, actually.” 

“See?” He looked back to Ashe and Caspar. “This is why I drink. I drink because my _dearest best friend _is so, so cruel to me.” To punctuate his point, he chugged the rest of his ale in one gulp.

Ashe chuckled softly. “Well, hopefully that’ll motivate you to watch your drinking.” His gaze drifted over to Caspar, who was waving over one of the cafeteria staff for a refill. “…unlike some of us…”

“Well, instead of being responsible, I have a better idea.” He elbowed Felix. “Hey, wanna see who can drink more before our hearts give out?”

“No.”

“Alright! Game on!” Sylvain swipes a refill from the approaching staff, downing his drink. Felix sighs and finishes his own at a gentler pace, also grabbing a quick refill.

Ashe stepped in as the voice of reason, per usual. “Sylvain, pace yourself a little.” He paused. “After all, there are plenty of girls in here. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of _them, _right?”

“Ashe, you clever little man,” Sylvain said with a chuckle. “But you can’t win me over with the usual tricks. Not this time~!”

Caspar emerged from his mug, wiping ale off of his upper lip. “Woah, did you become a priest or something? Take a vow of celibacy? Where’s the Sylvain we’ve all come to know?”

“Big news, you guys.” Sylvain gestured with a big, proud grin. “I’ve got a lady. An _exclusive_ lady. This time I’m going to try the ‘one at a time’ strategy, to see if that will help me keep her around a little longer.”

Felix suddenly downed his drink, earning a wince from Ashe, but both his and Caspar’s attention were quickly taken back to Sylvain’s announcement.

“Oh, so you have a girlfriend now? Just one?” Ashe smiled. “That’s great news. What’s she like?”

Sylvain clutched his chest, as if trying to still his fluttering heart. “Oh, she’s a _dream, _my dear Ashe. Her name is Bella, she’s a beautiful maiden with flowing red hair, and a good enough sense of humor to tolerate me. What else could a man need?”

“Goddess, she _tolerates _you?” Caspar’s eyes were wide. “Marry her! Marry her on the spot! Don’t let this one get away!”

Felix downs another glass, but Sylvain barely registers it. “Hey, hey, I think I’ve got her pretty good, no need to rush things, yeah?”

“How did you meet her?” Ashe inquired.

“I met her in town, and she helped me out. When I did my usual ‘lets go out for tea’ routine, she actually accepted! That doesn’t happen often.”

“And? Did you go with her?” Caspar leaned in, as if desperate to hear the conclusion to the tale.

“Multiple times. All of the time I previously dedicated to flirting around, I’ve been spending with her. She’s really just the sweetest, fairest maiden I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Ashe opened his mouth to respond, but he found himself cut off when Felix abruptly stood up. “…had too many,” he grumbled. “Gonna head back to my room.”

Sylvain frowned. “Aw, man. Well, rest up. Hope the hangover isn’t too bad!”

Felix grunted in response before staggering away. He’d always been a bit of a lightweight, as Sylvain recalled, but he was usually better with pacing himself. He jumped back into conversation with Caspar and Ashe easily, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was going on here.

—

_Felix fell back onto the bed, quickly joined by the other man climbing on top of him. Their lips crashed together hungrily, desperate to taste even the smallest morsel of one another. He moaned into the kiss as the other man quickly got to work with shedding Felix of his clothing. A hand slipped down his waistline as the man generously planted hickeys on Felix’s neck._

_Felix gasped. “Ghh—Slyvain—!”_

“—!?” Felix jolted awake, shame immediately crashing down on him. His mind spun with confusion and shock, and his whole body still burned hot with embarrassment.

Once he’d had a few moments to calm down, he ran a hand through his long, messy hair. Right, he’d crawled back to his room and passed out drunk. That’s all it was. A dream fueled by alcohol and hormones. After all, he’d been a single man for a pretty long time. This had to just be his brain trying to figure out feelings, right?

He stumbled out of bed, opening the window in his dorm to let the cool night air in. He needed to cool off, after that. _‘Thank you, brain,’_ he complained internally, _‘because I absolutely needed to dream about fucking Sylvain, of all people.’_

It still took him a few moments to cool down, however, and even once he’d chased away the hormones he still felt heavy shame. He dropped back into his bed, burying himself in the sheets as if that would stave off the embarrassment.

_‘It doesn’t mean anything,’_ he told himself. _‘It’s a dream. Dreams are always weird and stupid. Don’t overthink this.’_

Felix tended to be a moderate drinker, and he spent a moment wondering just _why _he’d gone and done this to himself. He was especially wondering this now that he could feel the hangover creeping in. “Don’t I know better at this point…?” He mumbled quietly to himself.

Right. The memory came back to him. Sylvain had been rambling on and on about the girl he had met, and… for some reason, it’d made Felix’s skin crawl. He’d grabbed for the nearest distraction, and it just so happened to be a mug of ale.

But why did it bother him so much that Sylvain was with women? It was more of the usual, really. It was something Felix was well used to. Maybe it was his insistence that he was serious about this one. Obviously, he wasn’t. He never was—so hearing him blow hot air must’ve just gotten on his nerves, that’s all.

His mind betrayed him and brought back words in Byleth’s voice. _“What about love?”_

“No,” Felix hissed aloud. “…absolutely not. That’s stupid.”

Love? _Sylvain?_ No, no, there was no way. He cared deeply for his friend, yes, more than he would ever admit, but—_love? _That was going too far. Sylvain was just his friend. He was someone Felix felt safe around, someone who managed to make him crack a smile, and someone who Felix wanted by his side for the rest of his life. That’s all it was.

…Wait.

Felix wanted to punch himself. He was so royally screwed. His brain had already betrayed him in making him realize his physical attraction, and pairing that with other feelings stirring in his head, he’s faced with a mess of gargantuan proportions. 

_Love. It was love, wasn’t it?_

He rolled back over in bed, groaning in frustration. It was moments like these where Felix wished _all_ of his problems could be solved with a well-aimed sword.

—

Sylvain didn’t see much of Felix the next day, and so by the day after that, he had really started to get worried. Though his memory was blurred by the alcohol, he remembered enough to know that Felix had been acting _very, very oddly._ He’d known the other man since they were both children, after all, he knew what was normal and what simply wasn’t.

He wasn’t all that surprised when he found Felix in the training grounds. Really, it was like there was no point in giving him a dorm of his own at all. He practically lived here, not there. Either way, seeing Felix in his natural habitat eased him a bit. It’d have been far more worrying if he had suddenly _stopped _training. Then he’d have more than enough reason for concern.

Knowing full well that Felix’s concentration was nearly impossible to break, Sylvain strolled up to his old friend as he furiously swiped at the enchanted training dummy, which was frantically stitching itself back up as he continued to tear into it. Everything about this was completely normal, so maybe there was no reason to worry after all?”

“_Hello_ Felix,” Sylvain greeted, drawing out the words.

Then, something happened that _wasn’t _normal. That greeting actually got Felix’s attention. In fact, it went a step further. It _startled _him. He let out an undignified gasp, nearly dropping his sword in the process. This never happened, and thus Sylvain found himself with a shiny new reason to worry.

Felix collected himself sloppily, fixing his grip and going back at the training dummy. “You’re distracting me.”

“What else are friends for?” He masked his concern under a thick layer of a teasing tone, obscuring it completely. “So, on a scale of one to ten—how bad was yesterday’s hangover?”

“What?” He froze for a moment, before quickly going back at the training dummy, now with even more aggression than before. “I didn’t have a hangover. I hardly drank more than I’m used to.”

“Woah, calm down, buddy.” Sylvain could see that his face was red with the strain—which was odd, because Felix hardly broke a sweat when training, usually—and couldn’t keep a twinge of worry from his voice. “You’re gonna blow a blood vessel or something.”

Felix stopped, letting out a harsh sigh, before turning to Sylvain. “What do you want?”

Sylvain crossed his arms casually behind his head, offering a wink. “Aww, can’t I come and say hi to my best buddy every now and then? Is that against the law, now?”

Felix struck the dummy with his sword with excessive force, prompting a wince from Sylvain. “Yes. It is,” Felix bitterly responded. 

“Alright, alright—fine, you got me. I’m not just here to distract you.” Sylvain put a hand on Felix’s shoulder, though he cringed when it was shrugged off. “You were acting really weird while we were drinking. What’s up? Is something wrong?”

Felix slashed at the dummy again before replying. “I drank a little more than usual. That’s all.”

Sylvain squinted. “Really? Is that it?”

He realized he might’ve messed something up when he saw Felix visibly bristle. “_Yes, _that’s it. Did I stutter? Clean out your ears. I’m _fine._”

Oh, something was definitely, _definitely _wrong, but now Sylvain had no idea how to approach it. It felt like stepping onto enemy territory, unsure of what steps he could take without ending up in a trap. “…well, uh…” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Hey, man, you know that if something’s up, you can always talk to me, right?”

Felix paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. Sylvain was about to open his mouth to say something again, but he was interrupted by a sudden swipe of Felix’s sword, slicing the dummy clean in half. The enchantment struggled to pull the split pieces back together as Felix sheathed the sword.

“…of course I know that,” he grumbled, “but nothing’s wrong, so it doesn’t matter. Leave me alone.”

For how dense he could be, Sylvain got the message loud and clear. He wasn’t welcome here right now. Not for a second. “…alright, uh, just making sure.” He took a few unsure steps back, before pivoting on one foot and hurrying out of the training grounds.

Behind him, he could hear Felix’s furious attacks pick back up again.

(The space between them grew further.)

—

It’d been over five years, but Felix still felt like it was only yesterday that he and Sylvain were classmates. The only thing that had hung over their heads were assignments and grades, not war and the fate of Fodlan. Those were different times, and in many ways, they were better times. 

Of course, that didn’t mean the stakes were non-existent. Many assignments threw the students into real battles, where real lives were on the line—their _own_ lives. Though they had Byleth, and occasionally even the Knights of Seiros, to back them up, there was definitely a real risk of serious injury or death on the battlefield. Nobody died in the school days, but the possibility that someone could have was real as it could be.

Felix hadn’t been afraid of that, though. Not for most of his time as a student. The risk felt fake to him, like less of a potential reality and more like the kinds of stories mothers would tell to scare their children into eating vegetables. He was confident in his own abilities, and knew that nobody would have an easy time taking him down. There were a few times he was driven to retreat, but he trusted that no enemy would get any further than that.

He hadn’t considered that he may end up fearing more for others than himself.

Felix had never been entirely privy to Sylvain’s home life. However, he knew it was complicated. Even as a child, he knew there was a reason why Sylvain seemed to spend more time with his family than at home, and he’d always found it odd how such an otherwise confident young boy would startle so easily. It’d also take someone with rather poor eyesight to not see some of the bruises that Sylvain would bring along when he stayed over.

He put things together as he got older, figuring out that Sylvain’s estranged older brother had to be the reason behind many of his problems, but he also felt deep suspicion for parents that would so readily cast a child aside—Crest or not. Still, many of the details were unknown. For how open and outgoing he seemed, Sylvain rarely showed his true feelings.

Felix only got half of the answers when they faced down Miklan on the battlefield. Even though Sylvain had tried to brush it off, disregard his brother as ever having been his family, it wasn’t as easy as that. Felix could hear it in his voice. There was a deep venom, a loathing for the man which he shared blood, but also some fear beneath it. 

He remembered marching to battle, and unable to stop thoughts from worming into his head. Thoughts about Glenn. 

_‘Am I actually lucky?’_

The battle itself was their greatest challenge yet. The professor tried to plan out a solid strategy, but they couldn’t account for how chaotic Miklan’s forces were. They were like wild animals, unpredictable and savage. In a way, he felt like the boar prince could fit in well with them.

In the end, the strategy was simply to power through and reach Miklan. Felix rushed in alongside Sylvain, who had yet to start battling on horseback, and felt a palpable hunger for revenge. Revenge on the man who had made his childhood home feel so unsafe. Later, Sylvain would think about this battle and the conflict with a more somber tone, but for now he was consumed by fire.

He clashed with his brother, supported by Felix. Miklan was strong and skilled, but he couldn’t take them both on at once—not with his limited ability to wield the Lance of Ruin, at least. One of them would dive in to create an opening, while the other would take that chance to attack. Eventually, they drove him back against the wall, ready to land the final blows.

And then the monster emerged.

All of the students were startled and horrified, but Felix could see on Sylvain’s face a sense of understanding. Beneath his shock, there was a sense of _‘ah, that makes sense’._ Miklan was foul inside and out.

Just the two of them couldn’t take on the monster, but by then the rest of the class had battled their way through and arrived as support. Through unknown means, Byleth understood exactly how to fight the monster that had emerged, and directed the class skillfully to take the beast down. However, there must have been some kind of slip-up. A mistake in the strategy, or maybe an attack didn’t do the damage Byleth was expecting.

They gave Felix a look he understood. He could withstand likely a single hit from the monster before having to retreat. He would have to put himself in danger for this cause. With a nod of understanding, he rushed into the fray, taking the beast’s attention away from a heavily wounded Mercedes and luring its attacks towards him.

The beast raised a claw to attack, but that’s when something unexpected happened. A lance sailed through the air, piercing through the creature’s outstretched palm. It screeched in pain before turning to leap onto the new attacker. Time slowed down when Felix saw the monster’s uninjured talons crash down onto Sylvain’s form, crumpling him like a mound of wet clay. The sound of his own screaming rushed to his ears, and he leapt onto the monster with fury.

The rest of the battle blurred, but they prevailed soon after that. It didn’t feel like a victory to Felix, however. Not when he saw Sylvain frantically being treated by Mercedes. He looked so battered, nearly broken. It made Felix’s chest fill with an emotion he didn’t know he had. It was a mixture of rage, sadness, a drive to protect, a fear of loss—

Felix was the one who sat at his bedside in the infirmary until he woke up over a day later. Sylvain had laughed weakly and shrugged the injury off, but Felix wasn’t in such good humor. He berated Sylvain for nearly getting himself killed, until his eyes started to burn. A tear fell, and it startled him. He’d hardly cried since he was a child.

Sylvain had taken his hand and squeezed it tightly, his expression softening to something more genuine. Felix made him swear up and down that he wouldn’t tell a soul that he’d shed tears. They both remembered a time as naive children, promising one another that they wouldn’t go anywhere the other couldn’t follow. They wouldn’t die, because otherwise they wouldn’t spend their lives together.

Though it may have taken a teasing professor and an unfortunate dream to figure it out, Felix realized he’d been in love for a long time.

—

Sylvain had brought Bella into the monastery grounds before, but he wasn’t expecting her to show up uninvited. Especially not in the middle of the night, wearing a fairly revealing dress. Her intent was more than clear, but he still found himself startled.

“Can I come in, dear?” Bella purred. “Forgive me for the hour, I just couldn’t help myself.”

Sylvain gulped before pulling a grin to his face. This was unexpected, and didn’t seem entirely in-character, judging by his prior experiences with Bella… but who was he to turn down such a clear advance. “My pleasure,” he replied, stepping aside to let her into his dorm. For once, he was glad that Ingrid bullied him into keeping it clean.

She strolled in, taking long, slow steps. She brushed a hand along the quilt of his bed. “I’ve been thinking, darling.”

“Oh? Thinking about what?” He approached, putting an arm around her shoulders as she leaned into the touch. “Tell me all that’s been on your mind.”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “Sylvain… you’ve been fighting this war, and it… it scares me…!” A hand went up to wipe a fresh tear from her eyes. “What if one day, you leave and don’t come back?”

Warning signs started to go off in his head. This didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t just ignore his girlfriend, could he? But her voice, the way she was acting, it all felt wrong. The Belle he’d gotten to know was a modest girl with a good sense of humor, not this dramatic, sultry woman. She was free to act however she pleased, of course, but why the sudden change?

“I’ll come back. My allies are strong, and I’m no pushover either.” He gently wiped another tear with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

(Something about saying that felt familiar and painful.)

She sniffed. “…it’s made me realize how short life is. How quickly one of us could fall. Even if you prevailed on the battlefield, who’s to say my village won’t get raided the next day? I don’t want to waste a single minute.” She pulled free of his arm, facing him and putting her hands on his chest, looking up at him with wide, glistening eyes. “I don’t want to die tomorrow having never truly showed you how I feel.”

(Something about hearing that felt lonely.)

“…Bella, are you sure?” He cupped her cheek gently.

She brushed past his touch, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him in closer. He could feel her breath on his own lips when she spoke. “I don’t want to die tomorrow having never laid beside you.”

Sylvain thought those words would fill him with excitement, but instead he simply had a sense of unease. That wouldn’t do—he just had to feign interest for now. It would be fine. “If that’s what you truly want, then it would be my pleasure.”

A smirk teased onto her lips as she leaned in to kiss him. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before she pulled back. “Lay down.”

Oh. A commanding woman. Well, that was hardly a dealbreaker. In fact, he always figured such an arrangement would be rather fun. (So why isn’t it?) He broke contact with her, laying back onto the bed. She quickly climbed onto him, slinking up his chest until they were nose-to-nose once more.

Her red hair, now out of its usual braid, was falling over her shoulders, and her soft features were illuminated by the dim lamp light. By all accounts, she was beautiful, and should be undeniably sexy. She straddled him, slowly undoing her dress, and he reached up to assist.

He had to take this chance, even if he wasn’t entirely interested. For once he’d found a woman who loved him not for his nobility or his Crest, but for _himself._ Even if her priorities were different, even if she wanted things he did not, the chances of ever finding this again were slim. He couldn’t afford to have higher standards.

“Of course, if we both survive these harsh times,” she purred, leaning in once more now that she was down to her undergarments, “perhaps you and I could have a future together?”

Once again, he had to mask his unease. They had only been on a dozen or so dates, this was surely moving _far _too fast. “Oh? And what are you imagining?” _‘Is this how I make the girls _I _flirt with feel? Oh, Goddess, no wonder I get slapped so often…’_

“You and I, laying side-by-side in bed… not a concern in the world, for in each other’s arms, all stress will feel miles away.” She teased open a few buttons on his shirt. “Responsibilities, strife, your duty to your House… we can be each other’s escape, my love.”

_‘…what?’_

Sylvain went ice cold. He must’ve failed to hide the way he suddenly tensed, because she noticed, tilting her head to the side quizzically. “What’s the matter, love? If that’s not what you want, I’m willing to change. Your happiness is mine, after all.” She smiled sweetly, but he could see now how fake it looked.

She knew. She’d known all along, he’d bet. When he finally thought he’d found a woman who loved him for who, not _what, _he was, of course it was a lie. His waning interest in her faded completely, but—

But.

But since when did it matter how he felt? He thought this girl was different, but once again he was reminded that nobody would ever see him as anything other than breeding stock and a grab for power and money. Maybe he had no right to turn her away. Maybe he just had to accept that it would always be his fate to be used.

He thought he’d made peace with that a long time ago. He thought he’d accepted his fate. So why did something in his chest burn with indignation? Why did he still want to challenge the path set out for him?

For the first time, Sylvain decides he deserves more from life.

“Belle, I never told you I was a noble.”

She blinked in surprise, pulling back. “…well, dear, you’re a public figure, of course I—“

“You said you didn’t know my name when we met.” He sat up, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t _then, _but of course I learned eventually.” She crossed her arms. “We don’t need to fight about this, you know. Can’t we just go back to what we were doing?”

“No, because you’re still _lying _to me. Don’t you think realizing your boyfriend was a noble would be something that might come up over tea?”

She stammered for a moment, before climbing off of him, kneeling beside him on the quilt. “Alright, fine. You’ve caught me. I knew all about you, and recognized you when we just met.”

Something inside Sylvain’s chest hurt, but he quickly numbed it. “So that’s a lot of lies, right out of the gate. Did you only help me because you knew I was a noble?”

“Please, Sylvain, it’s not all like that. I helped you because I wanted to, I’d have done the same for a commoner.” She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. “Listen, I was a minor noble growing up, though I’ve been cut out now. I know how it is. There are… expectations. We can’t live free lives, we have _responsibilities_… I know the things you say to other women, how cynically you treat your Crest and your lineage.”

He pulled further away from her. “Just how long have your eyes been on me?” And to think they had a simple chance meeting—or had she been watching? Waiting? Paranoias that his logical self knew were too far danced in his head.

“…you’re charming, you’re funny, and I do like spending time with you. Just because there’s no ‘love’…” She sighed. “You know how it is. Someone you get along with might be the best you’ll get. I want to be happy, I want you to be happy, and maybe somewhere along the way we’ll learn to love each other?”

He shook his head. “…Bella, listen.”

Her nervous eyes met his.

“Get the fuck out of my room. I don’t want to see you again.” 

She winced and climbed off his bed, quickly dressing herself. Sylvain internally winced, wondering if he was being too harsh. After all, she was trying to help him, and did seem to care, but…

As she left, Sylvain laid back down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The cracks in the bricks were cast a dull gold by the low, flickering lamp. 

He didn’t want to settle. He wanted someone he genuinely loved, and who loved him in return. It was about time he stopped willingly denying himself what he wanted, even if it would be much harder to find.

It would be worth it, in the end.

—

Sometimes wonderful things happened by chance. Sometimes old friends bump into each other in the streets and are able to catch up. Sometimes luck wins out and saves a life on the battlefield. Sometimes families are able to reunite after years apart.

And sometimes horrible things happened by chance.

Felix couldn’t sleep. When he couldn’t sleep, he’d lie awake at night and _think._ It was well-established by now that thinking was the last thing he wanted to be doing. He figured it was better to get up and do something instead of simply laying around and waiting for the sun to rise, as it’d be a productive distraction.

And, by chance, when he left his room he saw a red-haired woman enter Sylvain’s. He only saw her for a split second, but it was easy to tell by the way she stood and what she wore that she intended to stay the night. He stayed there, frozen, like a rabbit cornered by a fox, for a few moments.

_‘I’m not jealous,_’ he insisted to himself when he finally regained control of his feet. _‘I’m not.’_ He stalked through the dorm halls, and down the stairs. _‘Of course my feelings would amount to nothing. Sylvain only ever flirts with men as a joke. He would never be interested in me by default.’_

It didn’t stop it from hurting. Perhaps until now he’d made peace with being second place to every woman in the world because he could assure himself that Sylvain wasn’t serious about any of them. He had no reason to envy the one-off flings and meaningless banter, obviously. 

But now he’d found a woman he was serious about. One that liked him back. One that was now willing to go to bed with him. He couldn’t comfort himself anymore. He’d lost his chance—hell, he probably never had one to begin with.

His feet carried him to the training grounds without the rest of him even noticing, but that was fine enough for him. Felix grabbed one of the training swords, standing before a training dummy. Taking a few deep breaths to prepare himself, he began furiously slashing away at the cloth figure.

_‘I wonder what they’re doing now?’_

He hissed in frustration as thoughts continued to break through. He’s not jealous. He refused to be. Sylvain was his _friend, _if the idiot finally found love, he should be happy for him, right? So why won’t the icy feeling in his chest go away?

He pushed himself harder, battering the dummy with a vengeance. 

_‘Acting like this now that he’s found love… I’m not even a good friend to him, let alone a potential lover.’_

No. No. _Stop._ He pushed himself harder still, trying his best to silence his mind. 

_‘He’s just going to forget about me now. He has someone more important.’_

His muscles start to burn, but he keeps going.

_‘I’m jealous. I should be happy for him, but instead I’m jealous.’_

Stop it. Stop it. He couldn’t help how he was feeling. He wanted it all to stop.

_‘I’m a disgrace.’_

His vision started to swim from overexertion. How long had he been here? It’d been before midnight when he arrived, but he felt like he felt a flutter of dawn in the air.

_‘I thought we were supposed to be together forever.’_

The sword clattered to the floor, and before long, Felix collapses beside it.

—

Sylvain didn’t sleep well that night, and it showed on his face. He did his best to pull his usual grin, but it must’ve been obvious that his heart wasn’t in it. Nearly everyone he walked past either gave him an odd look or (if they were a former classmate) a comment of concern. He was usually so good at hiding things behind a smile, but he supposed even he had his limits.

He went to the dining hall for a morning meal, and was quickly joined by Byleth, wearing a look of concern. They sat beside him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sylvain—“ They started, but he cut them off.

“If you’re about to ask if I’m fine, the answer’s _yes,_ and you’re the twentieth person to ask today.” He immediately regretted snapping, but the lack of sleep and his general poor mood had caught up to him. He gave Byleth an apologetic look. “…sorry. But really, I’m fine.”

“Your reaction is pretty telling to the fact that you’re not.” They frowned gently, thankfully unfazed by his initial bite. “I’ve also never seen eye bags on you like that. Did you sleep at all?”

He sighed, caving a bit. “…no. Don’t know why, but I just had a hard time.” It was half-true, and half-lie. Maybe that would be enough to fool them.

Of course, Byleth knew their students better than they knew themselves, at times. “…are you sure you don’t know why?”

He groaned. “Professor, why do you always have to see right through us?”

“Sorry,” they smiled sheepishly, “but it usually comes in handy.”

A sigh. “…you know that girl I’ve been really, really trying to stick with? Bella?”

Byleth paused for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, I saw you with her, I think you introduced us. What about her?” Their expression fell, as if they could already guess where this was going. “…Sylvain…”

“I broke up with her last night,” he mumbled, crossing his arms on the table. “First time a breakup’s actually kind of affected me.”

(But that was a lie. It wasn’t the breakup that hurt.)

They gave his shoulder a supportive, gentle shake. “I understand. Well—“ They paused, before sighing. “I’ve never been in your shoes, since I’ve… never really dated anyone, ever, but… But I can imagine that it must sting. Even when you’re the one to break it off.”

“It’s fine.” He sat back up, and when Byleth gave him a doubtful look, he continued. “Well, er… it _will _be fine. We were only together for… what? A month? Two months?” Probably the longest he’d ever stuck with one girl. “I just need to… y’know, return to the basics. Spend some time with friends. Train a little. Get my mind off of things.”

Byleth smiled. “Yeah, that’s the idea. Dwelling on her won’t help much.”

Sylvain started digging into his breakfast. “I’m sure Felix is around here somewhere. I’ll grab him and we can train for a bit.” With a chuckle, he added. “By which I mean he’ll beat me up for a few hours, but in a friendly way."

They laughed a little at that. “Sounds good to me. I haven’t seen him around yet today, though. I wonder if he’s already at the training grounds?”

“Aw, what? This early?” Sylvain frowned. “He’d have barely had a chance to eat yet! Ugh, I swear if he’s training on an empty stomach again, he’s just gonna pass out.”

They sighed. “His dedication is admirable yet worrying. Maybe you should look for him?”

“Yeah, I will. I’m sure I’ll be back in a minute, dragging him in here and forcing him to eat.” Sylvain chuckled, before finishing the last of his meal. “Well, see you in probably a minute, Professor!”

They waved, before turning back to their own food. Sylvain hurried out of the dining hall, making a fairly direct path to the one place one was always sure to find Felix—the training grounds. It was surely his second home.

But he hesitated, hand pressed against the door but not nearly enough to draw it open. Last he’d had a full conversation with Felix was here. And… it didn’t exactly go well. A tiny bubble of anxiety grew in him. Did he mess something up?

No, no, Felix snapped at him all the time, and things were always _fine. _There was nothing to worry about. He had always tolerated Sylvain’s teasing nature.

_‘Unless something changed. Have you been taking his tolerance for granted?’_

No, no, worrying about this was dumb. Sylvain took in a deep breath and pushed the door open. At first, he thought it was empty, until his gaze was drawn downwards.

To Felix, who lay in a crumpled heap on the ground.

_“Fuck—“_ He hissed, running over. “Felix! _Felix!”_

(They felt as far as if a canyon stretched between them.)

_Sylvain had been looking for his friend all day. Felix had simply disappeared, and even the most fun things around the Fraldarius estate seemed dull without him. He was searching everywhere, but he had no luck… until he stepped into the garden and heard sniffling._

_“Feliiix? Is that you?” Sylvain called out, and the sniffling abruptly stopped._

_“…go away,” a quiet voice replied, trying and failing to sound mean. _

_Sylvain searched out the source, finding his friend curled up in a tiny ball beneath some kind of bush, purple juice smeared on his face from the berries. He pouted up at Sylvain, offended that his request was ignored._

_He sat down, scooting into the bush as well. “Why are you over here? I’ve been so bored all day. You should come out and play.”_

_“I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave this bush ever again.” Felix crossed his arms, hugging his little knees up to his chest._

_Sylvain cocked an eyebrow. “But why? This bush seems kind of boring.”_

_“…don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled, pouting more._

_“But I’m your friend! Friends talk to each other, right?”_

_It took a few moments of tense silence for Felix to finally break. “Fine. Remember that knight who would always bring us sweets from other villages?”_

_Sylvain lit up. “Yeah! He’s the best!”_

_“W-Well, he’s _dead_,” Felix spat, barely holding in a sob. “He went off to go fight bad guys and now we’re never going to see him again.”_

_Sylvain’s little heart broke. “But—but he was so nice, and so strong!”_

_“That didn’t stop him from dying,” Felix mumbled miserably. “Papa told me anyone can die, even good and strong people.”_

_“…anyone?”_

_“Anyone. Even papa, or Glenn, or Ingrid—even you and me.” He angrily wiped more tears from his face. “I don’t want any of them to die. I—“ He hiccuped, unable to hold in another sob. “What if all of them died except me? Then I’d… I’d be all alone…”_

_“No! No no.” Sylvain grabbed Felix’s shoulder. “I’m never gonna die! I won’t!”_

_“But what if _I _die, and you—“_

_“Then you’ll never die either! You and me are gonna be together forever!”_

_Felix was quiet for a bit, wiping more of his tears on his sleeve. “…promise?”_

_Sylvain smiled wide enough to light up this tiny space. “Promise. We’re not going anywhere without each other!”_

(Since when had there been so much distance?)

Sylvain hoisted Felix’s unconscious body up onto his back. What had his friend done to himself? He had no time to wonder that now. He had to get him to the infirmary.

“…you promised. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

—

Felix doesn’t wake up as much as he simply bleed back into reality. His senses returned to him slowly and lazily, in no hurry to bring him to consciousness. When he finally felt aware enough to process his surroundings, he found himself in the… monastery infirmary? 

_‘What the… how did I get here?’_

He started to try and sit up, prompting a familiar figure to seemingly materialize at his side. Manuela, the one most often in charge of the infirmary duties, had a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down. Her expression was a worried frown, like a mother about to scold a child for being reckless.

“Oh, no no no. You’re going to _rest. _The last thing you need after working yourself into unconsciousness is to be up and about.”

“…wasn’t going to get up,” Felix grumbled, helpless to push back against Manuela in his current state. “I just wanted to sit.”

She retracted her hand, looking doubtful. “…fine. You may sit up, but if I even see you _consider_ getting out of bed, I’m not afraid to tie you down.” At last, she eased a bit. “Although, I imagine you only need a day or so more of rest before you can—_carefully _and _gently—_return to your original schedule.”

Felix, now free to do so, sat up in the infirmary bed, putting a hand to his forehead. “…what happened to me?”

“Presumably you were overworking yourself, got dizzy, fell over, and proceeded to pass out. Nothing a few spells and some bed rest can’t fix,” Manuela stood, opening a notebook as she strolled across the infirmary, “but you gave your little boyfriend quite the scare. I had to chase him out of here!”

“Passed out while training… that’s a first, but I can’t say it’s surprising.” His brain catches up to everything Manuela said, and his eyes flew open wide. “—_boyfriend!?”_

She turned to him, blinking. “Sylvain?” She paused, closing the notebook. “Oh dear, did I misread that relationship?”

_‘Calm down, you’re not that obvious, Manuela is… just being Manuela.’ _Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Yes. You did. He’s a childhood friend. Nothing else.”

Manuela paused for a moment, seemingly thinking that over, before chuckling. “Well, you two could’ve fooled me. He carried you all the way here after finding you!”

“We’re allies that often fight side-by-side, it’s only natural that we would look out for each other.” He crossed his arms, averting his gaze. 

Frustratingly, that simply earned another chuckle from the woman. “He was beside himself worrying about you.”

“Again, we’re childhood friends. I don’t think that’s all that strange.”

“…Felix,” her amusement faded into a look of some kind of disappointment, “you’re lucky everyone here is far less perceptive than me with these things, because you haven’t fooled anyone.”

He bristled. “Of course I haven’t, because there’s nothing to fool anyone about!”

“You were calling out for him in your sleep.” Manuela releases her final, devastating blow casually.

Felix gulped and clutched the blankets. “…must’ve been having a dream.”

“Oh?” She smirked. “And do you dream about him regularly?”

A memory of the other night’s dream surfaced, staining his face red. “_No._ I just dream about—Of course my dreams would feature people I _know, _that’s normal!”

“Listen, dear.” Her expression softened as she sat at his bedside. “It’s not just this one time. I’ve seen the way you two interact. I’m not just here to tease you—you two clearly make each other happy. So, if you’re not together, why not?”

“Because I’m not—!” Felix groaned, giving up. “…because he’s not interested. He doesn’t—“

She cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, sorry, but if you’re about to say ‘he doesn’t like men’, I’m making you an appointment for an eye exam.”

“He obviously doesn’t!” Felix countered, heat rising to his cheeks once more.

“Felix, dear, as he was walking out of the infirmary, he walked past His Highness, and greeted him by smacking him on the bottom.”

He blinked. _‘I wish I could’ve seen that. The look on the boar’s face must’ve been priceless.’_ “So? Obviously he’s just… kidding around. He has a girlfriend, anyways.” Manuela opened her mouth to reply, but it was Felix’s turn to cut _her_ off. “One that he’s serious about, for the first time ever.”

Her lighthearted air dissolved. A look of sympathy spread on her face. “…really? Are you sure he’s serious about this one?”

He sighed, shrugging. “…can’t really be sure, but he claims he is. I also saw her… visiting him one night.” The memory stung. “Dressed like a street corner prostitute, no less.”

“Well, no need to go name-calling,” Manuela scolded gently, before her sympathetic look returned. “…you can’t just give up, you know.”

“Watch me,” he retorted sharply. “It’s not going to go anywhere, so I can and will completely give up.”

That earned a sigh from her. “Only you would turn giving up on a relationship into some kind of challenge… listen, Felix, I can’t read Sylvain’s mind. Maybe it really is a lost cause, but—why can’t you at least try?"

“You know why! Everything would be different if I told him and he turned me down. Isn’t it obvious?”

She shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. Sylvain may be… what’s a nice way to put this…”

“A moron?”

“Yes, a moron, but he’s perhaps the most understanding and sympathetic moron in the world. If anyone were to be able to take a situation in stride and come out of it still your dear friend, it would be him.” She winked. “And who knows? It may just work out.”

He turned away, not sharing in her enthusiasm. “…you say that, but I doubt it would work out.”

“And what do you propose you’ll do with your feelings instead?”

“Keep them all in here until one day, I die,” he responded bluntly.

Manuela put a hand up to her mouth and tried very, very hard not to laugh. “…okay, that was… a very witty response, I’ll give you that. But still!” She tried to look stern despite her amusement. “You’re still young! And we could use something wonderful to blossom in the midst of war. Don’t give up on him yet, Felix.”

He sighed, unconvinced. “…whatever. I’m going back to bed.” He rolled over, pulling the thin infirmary quilt over himself.

“…as you should!” Manuela said suddenly, as if she had forgotten that he was here to rest, not to get relationship advice. “Rest well, Felix.”

He simply grunted in response, letting his eyes slide shut. He was more exhausted than he thought…

_‘I don’t have a chance. It’s almost cruel of her to even try to give me hope._’

—

It was clear that Manuela’s intent was to sneakily get Felix back to his dorm room without Sylvain knowing, as he would have just gotten in the way, but hiding anything from him was often a wasted effort. He caught them in the act on the second floor of the dorm building, just when they were about to step into Felix’s room.

“H-Hey!” He ran over. “Manuela! You promised me you’d tell me when he woke up!”

She feigned surprise. “Did I? Sorry, dear. I just simply forgot!” She gave Felix a glance Sylvain couldn’t quite figure out, before looking back at him. “Well, here he is, awake and well. I told you there was no reason to worry.”

He crossed his arms, frowning. “Hey, I found him blacked out on the ground, I had plenty of reason to worry.”

“At least I would’ve died as I lived,” Felix chimed in, his voice flat, “in the training grounds.”

_“Not funny,”_ Sylvain retorted, finding the comment actually kind of funny. 

Manuela had a chuckle at both of their expenses. “Well, I’ll be headed back to the infirmary. I think Felix can manage to get back to his bed without falling to pieces from here. You boys have fun now!"

“Hey—“ Felix started to hiss something at Manuela, but she had slipped away, disappearing down the stairs. He groaned loudly, pinching his nose. “…eugh. Talking to us like little kids on a playdate…”

“Well, I guess it wasn’t too long ago that we _were_ just kids playing around, right?” Sylvain chuckled, at ease upon seeing Felix seemed to be back to normal. “Even if it feels like a lifetime ago.”

Felix crossed his arms. “It _was _a lifetime ago.”

“It was like ten years ago. That’s a very sad, short lifetime.”

“Such is war.”

Sylvain snickered at the dark joke. “Ouch. Too real, man.” He gave his old friend a big grin. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you’re okay. You can’t just go blacking out everywhere, alright?”

He scoffed. “I do it once, and now suddenly its a regular thing?”

“It better not be, that’s what I’m saying!” Sylvain playfully shoved Felix’s shoulder. “Take better care of—woah!”

Despite the shove not being very hard, Felix staggered considerably. With a pang of guilt, Sylvain remembered that he was probably still not completely recovered. He quickly reached to help stabilize him. 

“I’m fine,” Felix grumbled, clutching his head.

“Shit—I’m sorry, I forgot. I shouldn’t be out here distracting you when you need rest.” Sylvain pulled Felix’s door open. 

He rolled his eyes, collecting himself. “I’ve done nothing _but _rest, moron.”

“Yeah, but you also just worked yourself to complete exhaustion. A zap of a healing spell won’t completely do it for you. You need to rest up.” Sylvain crossed his arms stubbornly. “Go, get in bed. Don’t make me come in there and _tuck you in._”

Felix paled. “Gods, alright, I’ll do it.”

“Heh, what, does the idea of that scare you? Would you be _mortified?_” Sylvain gave him a mischievous smirk.

Felix stepped into his room, grabbing onto the inside door handle. “No, I was just thinking about the poor castle staff who would have to clean the pieces of you out of the dorm halls after I was done.” Sylvain caught a glimpse of a smirk as Felix shut the door on him.

“Wh—was that a _threat? _And you looked so smug too!” Sylvain’s voice raised in mock offense. “Next time I see you passed out on the ground, I’ll—…probably still help you, but I’ll be angrier about it!”

“Go away. I’m sleeping.”

He sighed, walking away from the dorm. “Fiiiine, fine. Rest well, Felix.” He ducked into his own room, dropping himself down onto his bed. He lazily kicked off his boots, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.

He couldn’t help but smile a little to himself. Truly, despite all of the teasing and back-and-forth, he was really, really relieved that Felix was alright. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done with himself if his friend had someone gone and gotten himself killed.

After all, Felix was a constant. Even though time had changed him, he was always _there _for Sylvain. Felix, who was strong-willed, somewhat prickly, yet cared deeply for those around him. He’d always felt like a safe haven, even after Sylvain’s own home life steadied out. He’d pass up on every beautiful girl that came his way if it meant he could be by Felix’s side forever.

…Sylvain wanted to smack himself, it was so obvious. The way he was thinking, the warmth in his chest… how hadn’t he noticed sooner? A smile played on his face, though he felt a little nervous with this realization. This could be something wonderful, or it could literally ruin everything.

Because he was in love with his best friend, obviously. Maybe he always had been.

—

Felix’s initial plan after realizing his feelings was to bottle them up and throw them away. After all, even if Manuela had been feeding him false hope, he had to remember how slim his chances were of ever making anything out of this. 

Sylvain himself had made this rather hard. It seemed that for the past few days, he had been even clingier than usual. He insisted on sitting next to Felix for every meal, and would even ignore perfectly available women just to talk to him. Logically, Felix knew this was because he was worried about his health, and also relieved that he had recovered, but it had made functioning for the past month nearly impossible. 

The tides of the war were turning. Things were shaping up to be alright. The mood around the monastery was light and sociable. Even Byleth, who had insisted up and down that they wouldn’t be even thinking about romance until the end of the war had been getting closer and closer to the boar. By all means, there was a reason to be happy.

But, for Felix, this just meant that he had even less of a reason to ignore his own feelings. Before, he’d been able to temporarily bury them with the thought that he had more important things—like a damn _war—_ to worry about. Now he couldn’t quite use that strategy. They hadn’t won yet, but for now, they were on the path to victory. They could afford distractions without sinking the entire kingdom.

He just couldn’t get Sylvain out of his head. It was humiliating. He felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush. _Pathetic. _He wondered why, if he couldn’t avoid these feelings, he couldn’t just feel with at least a small amount of _dignity._

After a recent victory in Alliance territory, the dining hall had been consumed in a celebration. Felix had only stuck around long enough to shove some food into his face before he turned on his heel and stalked out. He wasn’t exactly the type for _parties. _He especially wanted out after Maneula and Caspar had started a drinking contest. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by drunk idiots.

Even from his dorm, he could still hear the distant sounds of festivities. He gave the party-goers an hour before one of them sets the dining hall ablaze. At least he could have a bit of entertainment watching _that _happen. Yes, a fire in the monastery would be horrible, waste precious resources, potentially injure his comrades, but… hey, it’d be a distraction, right?

Felix started to wonder if maybe doing everything he can to not think about his problems might be a problem in itself, but that very idea is making his head hurt. He can’t deal with this right now.

Throwing off his boots, he dropped onto his bed, fully intending to go to sleep. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do tonight.

Until he heard a knock at his door.

—

Yes, winning decisive battles in order to end a continental war was fun and all, but what Sylvain was _really _looking forward to was a night to celebrate and let loose with Felix. Sure, he knew his chances of ever winning his stony heart over were slim, but he still wanted to try and have fun with him over a few drinks. After all, they’re best friends, first and foremost.

Of course, Sylvain instantly loses him in the crowd, then spots him slinking out of the dining hall a few minutes later. _Dammit._

After a few moments of deliberation, and enough time to see who won the drinking contest (Manuela mopped the floor with Caspar, of course), Sylvain decided that if Felix wasn’t going to be at the party, he was going to bring the party to _him._ He grabbed a tall bottle of ale from Caspar’s unconscious clutches, sneaking out of the dining hall with only a few raised eyebrows in his direction.

He was determined to have a fun night with Felix. Would it be awkward to hang out alone with his crush, only a bottle of booze between them? Oh, yes, absolutely, but it would be worth it. 

And so, Sylvain knocked on Felix’s door. “Heeelllooooo~? Open up! I’ve brought the party to _you!”_

He heard a bit of shuffling, and footsteps approaching the door. “What do you want,” Felix said from behind the door, his voice not sounding like a question.

“I have alcohol, lemme in.”

Apparently, that was enough, since the door opened to reveal Felix behind it. “Why did you bring me that?”

Sylvain grinned. “Because _I_ am bringing the party to _you, _in a much more manageable form.” Pause. “Manuela won the drinking competition, by the way.”

Felix stepped aside, wordlessly welcoming Sylvain inside. He offered only an eye-roll at the update to the party situation. “And nobody was surprised.”

Sylvain quickly made himself at home, plopping himself on the floor, leaning against the far wall. He patted the spot next to him. “C’mon, sit with me. Drinking on the floor is a classic bonding activity.”

Felix offered yet another eye-roll, but complied. “How many drinks have you already had?”

“Hey! I’ve had _one._ I’m not even buzzed—this good mood is all natural.” Realizing he forgot cups, he simply uncorked the bottle and handed it to Felix. “Well, not yet. Soon enough we’ll both be sloshed, stumbling down the monastery streets, arm-in-arm, singing sea shanties…”

He shrugged, not seeming to mind the lack of drinking glasses much as he took a swig from the bottle of ale, frowning a bit. “One, this ale sucks. Two, I don’t even know any sea shanties.”

Sylvain took the bottle back, confirming that this booze did, indeed, suck. He didn’t really care, though. He just wanted a good, buzzed vibe. “I think being drunk gives you the power to just know sea shanties by default.”

“Wonderful,” Felix deadpanned. 

They went back and forth like this for a bit, with Sylvain making dumb comments in the name of humor, and Felix giving snarky responses. Despite everything, they were having a good, lighthearted time. A few of his jokes had even earned a rare smile from Felix, but maybe that was just a sign that the alcohol was starting to affect him a bit.

“Considering all of the girls at the party,” Felix began, “I’m surprised you could pry yourself away.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Eh, well, the inspiration for a good pick-up line hasn’t really hit me lately, so the girls have gotten a bit of a break from the Sylvain shenanigans.” (In reality, he just found the empty flirting less and less appealing, both ever since the incident with Bella and his realizations about Felix.)

“Where’d that girl go?” Felix said, though Sylvain caught a wince as the words came out. The ale had made his tongue a bit looser, seemingly. 

The last thing Sylvain wanted to do was sour the good mood they had going on, but he figured he might as well be honest. “Ehh, we weren’t meant to be, I guess. I broke up with her awhile ago.”

He just barely caught how Felix tensed, before taking another swig from the bottle (which was nearing empty). “You broke up with her? And not the other way around?”

“I know, a shocker, right? Usually girls are totally sick of me by then!” _‘Just keep up with the good humor. This is supposed to be a fun night.’ _“But, ehh. She came on super strong, like uncomfortably strong, and I realized like—oh, man, is this how _I_ make girls feel?”

Felix snorted. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Sylvain swiped the bottle back, taking a sip himself. “Better late than never?” He shrugged. “I just dunno about these girls, man. They’re all super hot and super great, but I’m just not feeling it anymore.” He’s starting to get the feeling he’s delving too far down this topic, especially since he had initially been intending to avoid it.

Felix tensed a bit. “…the professor bugged me about that nonsense awhile ago.”

“Huh?”

“Love,” Felix grumbled. “As if they’re one to talk.”

“Pfft,” Sylvain grinned, “yeah, with how they’ve cozied up with our local royalty. They totally snuck out of the party together, by the way.”

“Knew it.” Felix takes the bottle again, unintentionally finishing off the last sip. He glared through the opening of the bottle, as if mad at it for containing finite liquid. “…so stupid.”

“I mean, I think that was more than enough ale, but I’ll go grab some m—“

Felix cut him off. “Not the ale, the…” He fumbled for a moment, clearly unsure of the words coming out of his mouth. “…the feelings stuff. I hate how everyone just—just assumes that I want any of that.”

Ouch. Sylvain hides his wince the best he can. “I mean, it’s always your choice in the end, but—“ ‘_Don’t try to influence him, you’ve got something to gain from it and that’d make it a pretty shitty thing to do,’_ “—I mean, I guess it’s… always worth a shot?” _‘Good job. You’re doing it anyways.’_

“Not worth my time,” he grumbled, placing the bottle down and letting it roll in lazy circles. “If I thought it’d work, I’d have done something already.”

Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck. “You… uh… can’t give up so soon, you know.”

Felix fumbled for words again, before groaning and pressing a hand against his forehead. “Ugh, why am I wasting my time on this? This is—“

“—a bad idea?” Sylvain offered, fidgeting a bit. His head felt fuzzy and warm from the alcohol, but there was still a tiny logical part of him that was not happy about this. _“You’re drunk, alone with your crush, and talking to him about feelings,”_ the part of him protested. _“This literally can’t go well.”_

“—a perfect chance for me to fuck this up,” Felix hissed, finishing what he had intended to say.

Sylvain paused. “…fuck this up? How?”

Felix put his head fully in his hands. “I’m thinking _again, _too much—I want to shut my stupid brain _up_.”

This sparked a fair bit of concern in Sylvain’s chest. He put a hand gently on Felix’s shoulder, unsure of what else to do. “Hey, hey, slow down, what’s the matter?”

“The matter…” Felix was breathing heavily. “…is that I’m about to make a _terrible _decision, and I’m not gonna be able to stop it.”

“What are you—“

Felix picked his head back up, grabbing Sylvain by the collar of the shirt. He didn’t have a chance to realize what was happening before their lips crashed together.

—

This was, without a doubt, the worst decision Felix has ever made in his entire life. His remaining sober brain cells are absolutely _screaming _at him, but unfortunately, bad decisions and alcohol are all that’s at the wheel right now.

Of course, the kiss is a mess; their teeth click together, and the bitter taste of the ale they’d been drinking is all that reaches his tongue. Sylvain doesn’t pull away immediately—obviously because he’s frozen in shock—but it isn’t long before he pulls back.

Felix’s better senses finally regain control, and he reels back, somehow going pale and bright red at the same time with dread and embarrassment. _‘We’re both buzzed,’ _Felix tried to tell himself as his heart broke over Sylvain’s shocked expression, _‘in the morning, I can blame it all on the alcohol.’_

“…” The silence was becoming unbearable. Felix stumbled to his feet, staggering backwards until he had practically backed himself into the corner of his room. “_Fuck. _Fuck. Why did I _do that?”_

Sylvain stood as well, concern now painting his features. ‘_Of course. Even after I ruin everything the idiot still cares,’_ Felix thought venomously to himself.

“Felix, hey, talk to me,” Sylvain put a hand on his shoulder. “You—you kinda gotta explain that.”

Felix tried to bite his tongue, but he couldn’t stop himself from talking. “I told you, I was—about to make a terrible mistake, I was—“

—

“Who said it was a mistake?”

Felix’s eyes widened with shock, and with a pang of dread Sylvain wondered if maybe that was the wrong option. _‘No, no, this—I have to be reading this situation right at least. …right?’_ He couldn’t deny he was feeling nervous.

“…shut up, you don’t know what you’re saying, you’re _drunk,”_ Felix hissed, bristling.

“Actually,” he took a step forward, steeling his courage, “I think, for the first time in my life, I’m actually sure of this.”

Felix fumbled for a response. “You… stop saying the same shit you say to the girls you play with…”

Ouch. Sylvain felt that one. “…about that. I realized something, you know? Why so many of the girls I’ve spent time with never really did much for me, even the genuine ones.” He paused. “I’d been in love with someone for a long time, but, pretty fittingly for something as dumb as a brick like me, I don’t think I noticed until now.”

Felix swallowed, unable to respond.

He continued. “So, even though it took awhile, I’m just going to say it while I have a little liquid courage in me, because you’d be amazed at how much harder this is to say when you actually _mean it,”_ Sylvain took a deep breath. “…I love you. I’m pretty sure I have for a long time.”

Poor Felix. He was wide-eyed like a cornered rabbit, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as he struggled for words.

_‘Oh goddess, I totally went overboard with that confession. What if he’s just horny and has no other feelings for me?’_ Even though that sounded completely out-of-character for Felix, Sylvain couldn’t shake the anxiety.

“You…” Felix had to force each word out with visible effort. “You… loved me… _and didn’t notice?”_

Sylvain gave a sheepish grin and a shrug. “…just like me, huh?”

“…idiot,” Felix grumbled. “I feel even _more _like an idiot, though.”

Before Sylvain could ask any questions, their lips were together again. They both leaned into the kiss, this attempt far more confident than the last. It was still messy, and the bitter taste of ale was on both of their breaths, but it was okay. They surely could figure out the rest in the morning. For now, they’d enjoy the moment.

(The space between them vanished.)

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed. This fic just kept getting longer and longer the more I wrote, and before I knew it I had nearly 14k words to contend with D:
> 
> Sorry if anyone was OOC, this is the first time in a while I wrote something that wasn't 90% OC-based, and so it took a bit to get used to having to write someone else's characters, haha--
> 
> Please leave a comment letting me know what you think! I'll even take criticism, just... be gentle, haha ^^'
> 
> (Psst. Follow me on Twitter at @Grimalkind)


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